Once Upon A Dream
by mermaidstear
Summary: Adeline has been cursed by Dahlia; to live one year in a century and sleep the rest. When the Originals meet her at the court of the De Martels, she is taken in as their personal witch.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! I feel like I've been working on this for months, since I've been working on it while juggling grad school, but it is finally finished. I was originally not going to put this online because I didn't know how I felt about it, but I decided to put it out there! This chapter is essentially a long prologue and the Originals won't be in it until next chapter (though you will recognize a couple of names). Also, I'm somewhat unfamiliar with this period of history so I do occasionally take some liberties.**

 **Rouen, 1001 AD**

"Take my hands, Adeline," Louis whispered to me. We kneeled on the cold stone floor outside of my sister, Isabel, and her husband's rooms. I ignored my discomfort and Isabel's painful screams as I grasped Louis's fingers in my own. He did not need to command me to say the words, for I knew them by heart. Many babies had the misfortune to be turned around in the womb, wishing to be birthed legs first rather than head. I had prayed that Isabel's birth would be a normal one, that she would have a healthy and beautiful child, but my prayers hadn't been answered.

"Please!" yelled Isabel in horrific agony. I tightened my grip on Louis's hands and chanted. Our lips formed the same words. Isabel's husband, Rodrick, was pacing and muttering under his breath. He didn't think Louis and I could do anything for our sister. I hoped he was wrong.

Isabel cried again and the candles in the hallway blew out, as if they knew my sister was fighting a losing battle. I realized that the spell wasn't working in the usual way. Isabel was in a far worse situation than having a breached baby.

"Lady Adeline, can you not-" Rodrick began. I cut my eyes over to him.

"She is no midwife," Louis replied for me. When I stared at my twin brother, I saw that the magic we'd been performing for hours was beginning to take its toll on him. Blood trailed out of his nose and his skin seemed abnormally pale.

"Louis," I whispered and nodded at him. He broke his hold on my fingers to dab at the blood.

"Find another spell, Adeline," he commanded. When his hand returned to mine, his blood warmed my skin.

"We have tried every one I know of!" I said desperately. "What more can we do?"

"Look through the grimoires."

"For what? A cure-all?" I questioned. "We do not know what's wrong with her." Louis suddenly appeared crestfallen and I understood then that, short of a miracle, my sister would die tonight. The thought made the blood freeze in my veins. I couldn't let this happen to Isabel, not while there was still time.

"What about the new witch?" Rodrick asked eagerly. "Have either of you spoken with her?"

Louis arched a dark eyebrow. "The witch secluded in the woods?" My father had asked Louis to take care of her no more than a fortnight ago but the witch had proved secretive and skilled in cloaking spells. My twin also had little desire to do as my father asked.

"The very one! The villagers say she's living in the forest with an apprentice. They say there is nothing she cannot do. But for her help, you must pay a great price."

"No, Rodrick," my brother lamented. "You cannot make a deal with a witch like that."

"But _you_ could!" Rodrick declared. I became angry, whether because Rodrick had the audacity to suggest that Louis and I fight his battles for him or because I already knew I would agree. "The two of you together don't have the power to save Isabel but perhaps, this witch does."

"It is no guarantee," I replied. "She would strike no deal with my family, not after Louis and my lord father's men trounced through her land."

" _Her_ land?" Louis questioned. Though he cared little for our father's wishes, Louis had still balked at another witch coming into our territory.

"It is a blessing that you did not catch her," Rodrick said. "If we do not do this, Isabel will not see the dawn. If she cannot save her, at least we will have tried." Unfortunately, I knew that Rodrick was right.

Louis saw the look on my face and dropped my hands. "No, no, no, Adeline. We can't do this. We do not even know who this woman and her apprentice are. They are adept at hiding. It could take us hours to find them."

"It could take _you_ that long but not I." He narrowed his dark eyes but I knew that he would let me go. It was either embark on a fool's errand or do nothing while our sister was dragged screaming into an early grave. "Ready a horse. I'll perform a locator spell." Locator spells were a particular specialty of mine.

"Adeline…" he implored. "This is dangerous."

"Yes," I agreed, "it is." There was no denying that the task would be difficult or that it might be some form of trickery. But I had grown up on fairy stories and I knew much about other witches or so I thought. This mysterious woman and her student could be like those in the legends that Isabel used to tell Louis and I before bed, so that we'd hold each other in terror and tell ourselves that we'd never be so foolish. But all the girls in the stories had told themselves the same thing, hadn't they? That they were clever girls, everyone said so, and that, just like the monsters, they had powers of their own. Their abilities would be virtues. Kindness, patience, piety. My own gifts seemed far more sinister and thus, more likely to succeed.

Louis followed me to my chambers. "You need not do this on your own," he whispered. Truthfully, I did wish to have him with me. Without Louis, I felt vaguely powerless and oddly lost.

"Someone needs to stay with Rodrick and when it is over, Isabel will want to see someone other than Mother. We can't both abandon her in her time of need," I stated.

"Let me go in your stead," he pleaded, running a hand through hair as black as ink. "Isabel calls for you, don't you feel it?" I did feel it. I felt it in my marrow. But the childbed had always frightened me and what comfort would I be to Isabel, cowering in the corner of her room? Pregnancy, childbirth, the things that should be inherently natural and understandable to all women, put me on edge. I could not face my sister while she was in the thralls of it all.

"I am the faster rider," I said simply. He gave me a brilliant and wide smile, completely inappropriate given the situation, but I returned it with one of my own. "What should I say when she asks for payment?"

"Tell her there is no price we won't pay for the safety of our family." There was an air of prophecy to those words, weighty and laden with unknown peril. "Be careful, little sister." Louis pressed his lips to my cheek and headed to the stables.

I entered my rooms and sprawled a map upon the stone floor. Crouching in front of it, I wound an aged chain around two fingers. Its pendant was rough-cut amber, golden yellow and heavy. I swung the necklace in a wide circle over the map and whispered, "Locāte." I thought of the witch, huddled in the forest with her various powers. I thought of the cold and my sister yelling for more birthing wine and of my brother's kind face. I thought of Louis and I alone, bearing the wrath of our father for losing his favorite child **.**

The amber dropped to the map, pulling the chain taut. I marked the location and tucked the map into my skirts.

I quickly ran to the stables and found Louis's horse readied. I rubbed the stallion's neck before climbing atop him. The witch wasn't far, perhaps not an hour's ride there and back. This was lucky for Isabel, whose labor must be nearing its end.

I brought my skirts up to my waist for easier riding, baring my legs to the wrath of the winter wind, and set off. Louis's stallion was spectacularly fleet. "You know where we're headed, don't you?" I whispered to him. He whinnied. My father's horses understood magic far more than they understood their rider's typical commands.

As I headed deeper into the forest at the base of our castle, the terrain became more difficult to navigate. I steered on even as branches tore at my skin and dark hair. Once I rode through a river, I spotted a ramshackle cottage. It appeared to be suffocating beneath the weight of thousands of dahlias. Though the sky threatened snow and I was wearing my warmest cloak, these flowers thrived. I dismounted and gave myself a moment to gain my footing. Louis had never found her. His men assumed she was hidden farther in the woods but Louis, a true witch, knew that she had cloaked her location. For some unknown purpose, she had chosen not to hide from me. This gave me cause for concern and it warned that I was entering into a precarious situation. But Isabel was cloistered in her rooms with our mother and she was close to death. My fear meant nothing.

My knuckles barely rapped on the cottage's splintered door and it swung open. I saw a girl, blonde and nice looking, if a little downtrodden. Behind her, I saw a woman who was dark and pale all at once, yet remarkably regal. She was sitting at a round table, more dahlias before her.

"What is this?" the woman asked. There was an eerie quality to her voice. I should have run and let God take my sister. But when the girl, so light and feminine, beckoned for me to come in, I did so. As my green skirts brushed against the threshold, I knew why Isabel had told Louis and I all of those old stories; because they were true.

"My name is Adeline de Rouen," I began, my voice weak. The apprentice shut the door behind me. "I have heard that you can cure any ill."

"You are the Comte de Rouen's daughter," she replied. Her dark eyes flashed in my direction. They dared me to beg. "Your foolish brother ravaged my garden."

"Yes," I told her. "He was following our father's orders." She cut her eyes at me, as if that was no excuse. "Please, my sister is dying."

"Do you know who I am, Adeline de Rouen?" I shook my head like a child. "I am not someone you should cross." I shook my head again.

"Of- Of course not, I have just heard that you can help me. Please, my sister-"

"And why would I?" She looked down at her nails, as if they were immensely interesting. I wondered if she truly held Louis in such contempt for riding through with his men and if I was doomed to be tainted by that.

"I can give you whatever you want. I am not prideful, I will grovel for her life, if that's what you wish."

"That won't be necessary. But I ask for a particular price and I'm not sure you can pay it."

"You are wrong," I asserted. "My brother and I are powerful and there is no price we will not pay for our family." She smiled.

"No!" exclaimed the apprentice. "You can't-"

" _Freya_ ," hissed the witch. The girl looked at me, pleaded with her eyes. She knew that I was making the worst sort of mistake by striking a deal with this woman but I doubt she had ever heard her sister scream the way mine had. "Tell me, little witch, what has happened to your sister?" It did not surprise me that she knew I was a witch. It surprised me that it took so little to get her to help.

"She has been in labor for hours. Her child is… I thought perhaps, it was just breached but it is worse than that. My brother and I have performed every spell imaginable and nothing we do is of any help to her. No one knows what is wrong." I felt as if I should be crying, down on my knees before this woman.

"Freya," the witch said again. The girl perked up. "Go to the castle. Find her brother."

"Louis," I whispered.

"Make him take you to the girl," the witch continued, as if I hadn't spoken. "You'll know what to do."

"Yes," I said. "Take my horse. Her name is Isabel. She will want to know that I sent you."

The apprentice, Freya, gave me a kind smile. Her hand rested against my shoulder. "You need not worry," she murmured. "I can save your sister." When she walked out of the cottage, I had no doubt that Freya would take care of Isabel.

"Sit with me, girl," the witch commanded. I moved to do as she said. I still believed that she had given in too easily but perhaps she knew that, no matter the price, I would be willing to pay. "We need to discuss what you can do for me."

"Am I not to know your name?" I questioned lightly. Her mouth turned into a crooked smile.

"My name is Dahlia." Though the flowers now made sense, I was still ill at ease. "I have seen you and your brother before, from afar. Both of you seem quite talented. Twins always are." I thought about asking why, if we were so talented, we could not save our sister.

"Louis and I draw power from each other," I admitted. Dahlia nodded knowingly.

"Neither of you ever work spells with other witches? Not even your sister?" I shook my head.

"Isabel does not have much in the way of magic." And yet, she was still our father's favorite.

"I'm going to offer you and your brother an opportunity, Adeline." She did not use the title I was so accustomed to hearing but I barely noticed for wondering what she would ask of me. "I need magic, strong magic. I sense that strength in you and it could only be made more powerful by your brother."

"You would like for Louis and I to join you?" She nodded.

"I would ask for a year of your life in servitude to me. You both would come with Freya and I on our endeavors and for one year's time, you would do as I wish."

"That will be no issue." There was no turning back now, since Freya was already on her way to my sister, and one year would matter very little in the grand scheme of our lives. Louis and I were young. Tristan de Martel and I had been betrothed since we were children so waiting another year would be nothing and Louis was in no danger of inheriting the title yet. One year of our young lives spent in service to a clearly powerful witch barely seemed like payment. Louis and I had always been eager to learn and Dahlia appeared to have knowledge she wished to impart.

"You are truly desperate, Adeline de Rouen," she declared. Indeed, I was. I wanted Isabel to live and I had known when I agreed to seek out the mysterious witch in the woods, that I would be required to make a deal. I was only pleased that the bargain seemed to benefit me and my brother. "There is another condition."

"Yes?" I feared that this would be it, that this would be the moment that she would tell me I was to sacrifice an innocent for the act of sparing Isabel. I expected something horrible and completely beyond the bounds of my ability. But Dahlia's answer struck me as the strangest thing that had happened all evening.

"Do not talk about your former lives with Freya. Do not befriend Freya. Neither of you are to touch her. Treat her as you would your many servants, as if she is beneath you." I began to protest and question why but Dahlia held up a hand. "Will you do as I ask?"

Though the conditions made no sense, I nodded. How was I not supposed to befriend someone who would spend a year in my company? Why did Dahlia request that we be callous? The girl seemed sweet. She deserved kindness and thanks for saving my sister, not cruelty.

"We are in agreement. Swear to it." Dahlia pulled a blade from the folds of her dress and ran it across the palm of her hand. She handed it to me and I did the same. We pressed our hands together, let the blood mingle, said a few words.

In a matter of minutes, I'd saved my sister's life and promised my own in recompense.

Isabel and her baby survived the labor unscathed. My sister sat up in bed, her babe sleeping in her delicate arms. There was no sign of the battle she had almost lost in her crown of golden hair or her glossy pale skin. I stayed with her that night and told her of the bargain I had struck.

"Adeline, she will never let either of you go!" Isabel exclaimed. "She must have always wanted you and Louis. Do you realize that you have played into her hand?"

"There was no other choice," I told her. "We could not save you and I would not see you buried."

"Don't go with her, please."

"You know that we must. I swore a blood oath." She gasped.

"Adeline," she muttered, horrified. She would not have done the same for me, had I been in her position. It turned me bitter.

"You could thank me."

"For giving yourself to some evil woman? For sacrificing our brother? It was my time and mark my words, you will pay for this."

Those were the last words I ever heard Isabel say.

Louis had been the one to tell our parents and they had been rife with anger. It was not enough that we had made a decision to save the life of their favorite child. When he retrieved me from Isabel's rooms, a bruise was blossoming across his tan cheek. I ran a finger along it and watched it heal. Neither of us mentioned the bruise on our ride into the forest.

* * *

When Louis and I joined Dahlia and Freya, I was incredibly conscious of the rules. Do what Dahlia wants, pay no mind to Freya, but it was difficult. I could not bear to be mean to Freya and Louis never began to try. Having him by my side made the ordeal bearable. After a month with them, cloistered in that forest cottage, Louis crawled into my small bed and whispered, "I think Freya is being held against her will."

"How do you know?" I muttered, pressing myself closer to him for warmth. We had done this as children, always hiding, never seeking.

"I have a feeling." Louis's feelings were always correct.

"We cannot do anything. We are not even supposed to speak with her." Truthfully, I did feel heartless but doing as Dahlia wished had been part of the arrangement. I couldn't throw that to the wind and risk retribution.

"I know but we owe her," he groaned. Of course, that was true. Freya had been the one to save Isabel and her child… and she had clearly made quite the impression on my twin brother. "When the year is up?" I debated it for only a moment before nodding against his shoulder. He kissed my cheek and crawled back to his own bed. I saw his gaze go to Freya, asleep on the other side of the room.

I didn't notice her open her eyes and smile.

Freya went with me to gather herbs the next day. It was one of the few times I had been allowed out of the house, due to the risk of someone recognizing Louis and I, so I enjoyed it. Freya liked it as well. She filled her basket full of flowers and greenery, even braiding a few through her long blonde hair.

"May I make you a crown, Lady Adeline?" she asked, already weaving together strands of a blueish-purple plant. It had a cone-shaped flower.

"What is that?" I responded.

"Vervain," she replied. "It's a very useful herb. I'm surprised you have not heard of it." I was surprised too, since I spent so much time gathering and collecting plants.

I went back to putting holly in my basket. Pushing my black hair behind my shoulders, I clipped branches heavy with berries. In the next instant, Freya was beside me, picking holly and braiding it into the chain of vervain she had going. It was going to be a strange crown but if she was making it for me, I had no doubt that there was meaning in her choices.

"Holly is beneficial in inducing prophetic dreams," she said. "Here." She placed the crown on the forest floor and gathered more holly branches into a bouquet. Without asking, she reached for the belt at my waist and withdrew a ribbon.

"You can't just take what you want!" I told her, patently outraged. I reached for the ribbon. It was one of the few things I had brought with me from the castle and had been used in Isabel and Rodrick's wedding during their handfasting.

"It has to be something of yours if the spell is to work." Freya at least had the decency to look cowed.

"I have no desire to see the future," I replied but dropped my hand. She smiled.

"You and I both know that that is blatantly untrue." I stared at her in disbelief as she took the ribbon and wound it around the holly branches. Thorns pierced its cream silk. "Is this your handfasting ribbon? Are you married?"

"No, it is my sister's. She gave it to me. But I will marry when the year is up, if my father gets his way." The words were out of my mouth before there was a chance to regret them. Freya perked up, so happy that I had shared something with her.

"Is your sister happy in her marriage?"

I shrugged. "I suppose so. Rodrick is… strong and will one day have a title of his own."

"She doesn't love him?"

"I do not know. I've never asked."

"I know your husband will love you," she declared. I doubted that Tristan would ever love anyone who wasn't his sister and that bothered me very little because I doubted I would ever love him.

"Is that what the holly tells you?"

"No, it is what the holly will tell _you._ " She pressed the bouquet into my hands. "Place this under your pillow on the night of the crescent moon. You will see a glimpse into your future. Perhaps you will see your husband."

"I know who my husband will be. We were betrothed in the cradle."

"Are you certain?" Freya arched an eyebrow and I pondered whether she needed the help of holly to see into the future.

Part of me wondered what it could hurt so I tucked the holly bouquet into my basket. She smiled and went back to weaving my crown. I wanted to tell her that I couldn't wear it, that I was forbidden to associate with her, but when she placed the crown on my head, it felt right.

"Thank you," I said. I imagined it looked rather strange but I was oddly touched by the gesture.

"One last thing," she whispered and pulled from the bottom of her basket, a strand of mistletoe. I let her hide it in the crown, behind other heavy berries and thorny leaves.

"Why this peculiar combination of plants, Freya?" I questioned. "Why the mistletoe?"

"Perhaps you will come to know, in time," she playfully responded. "As for the mistletoe, Loki did kill fair Baldur with a dart of it. The goddess for which I am named made it a symbol of peace and love." I had thought Dahlia and Freya to be foreigners but perhaps, they were simply Normans. Many in Rouen were. My own family was Norman and we were proud of our link to the Viking raiders which had settled this area so long ago. I feared that there was more to Freya and her story than descent from Norse ancestors.

"And you do see me as that selfsame weapon?"

"You do not strike me as a weapon, Lady Adeline, but you are indeed poisonous." I bristled, though she was correct.

"I do apologize for the callous way my brother and I have treated you but you do not understand."

"I do understand," she replied coldly. "I understand that my aunt Dahlia is a cruel and vindictive woman who would deny me happiness at every turn." My lips parted in disbelief. "It is not yours or Louis's fault. It is simply the way she is." I could not ignore how Freya did not refer to my brother by his title. She'd spoken his name as if she was familiar with him, intimately familiar.

"We cannot afford to offend Dahlia," I whispered. "Please."

"I would never ask you to go against her," she assured me. "Your sister and her babe's life do hang in the balance. I would not wish them harm. I did all I could to save them, Lady Adeline."

"Of course," I responded. I hoped that Freya would not do something foolish but I feared she already had. Worse yet, Louis was sure to have been a party to it. I could see my thoughtless, handsome brother finally free of my father and tempted by something he knew was beyond his reach. I could see Freya, cooped up and restless, enthralled with a man endowed with not only title and beauty but magical power. It was an incredibly imprudent union, one which put my brother and I in needless jeopardy, but love was often senseless.

* * *

I could not resist continuing my friendship with Freya, thoughtless as it was, and when the crescent moon came, I tucked the holly bouquet beneath my pillow. Did I truly want to jeopardize my relationship with Dahlia further? In truth, the entire arrangement felt like a trick, a snare that Dahlia had set and knew I would wander into. Did I genuinely want to see my future, particularly my husband if he wasn't Tristan? I cared little for Tristan. He was cruel and possessive of me already and marriage would only confirm that I belonged to him. But it was my duty to marry Tristan. I'd known that all my life and though I didn't wish to be separated from Louis, I understood that I would eventually have no choice.

I wrapped my fingers around the bouquet under my head and drifted off to sleep.

Tristan's face, predictably, did not haunt my prophetic dreams but a wedding did. A pack of five wolves surrounded the altar. Two tore at the hem of my gown, teeth perilously close to my skin, and another had her jaws clamped around Louis's leg, though he didn't seem to mind. A vine of thorns was used for the handfasting ceremony. The marriage feast was full of decaying food. Goblets overflowed with something much thicker than wine. Bloodied corpses appeared to be the only witnesses to the wedding. And that strange plant that Freya had woven into my flower crown, vervain, was everywhere.

I awoke with a start, sweat causing my sleeping gown to cling to my skin. I pulled the bouquet from my bed and stood, looking around the tattered room for either Louis or Freya but I saw neither. I wanted to tell them what I had seen, that Tristan wouldn't marry me but Louis and I were to be torn apart by wolves. Were the wolves a family we were unfamiliar with? Why did they want us? I wished to tell these things to Freya because it was possible she could explain what they meant. Louis simply deserved to be warned.

When I discovered that neither my brother nor Freya were still in the house, I knew that I must find them, wherever they were. I knew what they were about.

Dahlia was cloistered in her own room in the back of the cottage, hopefully sleeping like the dead, so I took my chances and walked into the forest. The holly felt heavy in my hand and it only grew heavier as I approached the river. Two figures stood so close that I thought the river might sweep them away. They were speaking in hushed tones.

"My sister and I can save you." I recognized the lush voice of my brother and I watched, hidden by darkness, as he brushed the back of his hand across Freya's cheek. It was so wildly intimate that I wondered how long they'd been having this affair.

Freya shook her head and whispered something about a child. I was so startled that I dropped the bouquet of holly to the forest floor. It fell to pieces, berries bursting and coloring Isabel's handfasting ribbon.

Louis bent towards Freya and pressed his lips to hers. She ran her pale fingers along my brother's olive skin and through his black hair and the air prickled with a power I had never felt before. How had they gotten away with this? Were Dahlia and I so blind as to not recognize love in our midst?

Louis ran his mouth along her jawline and she sighed. I cursed Freya for weaving me that crown as if I was some forest princess and for telling me to look into my future, where I saw the pack of wolves that would devour me. I could stand it no longer.

I walked into the clearing at the river and hissed, "You are _both_ fools!" The lovers broke apart, swiftly putting distance between them.

"Adeline," Louis whispered. I held up a hand.

"Do not explain yourself. I heard you speak of a baby. Freya, are you with child?" I turned to Freya, her face prettily flushed, and she nodded. "How could you be this stupid?" I demanded.

"She wants a child, Adeline," Louis implored.

"Out of wedlock? Against every aspect of the deal I struck with Dahlia? We could be killed!" Freya's eyes welled with tears as she realized the truth of my words.

"She will never find out."

"She could have found out now, if it had been her instead of me out for a midnight stroll." Freya's gaze fell to the destroyed bouquet behind me on the forest floor.

"What did you see, Adeline?" she asked. My dressing gown still hopelessly clung to my shivering form and the memory of the she-wolf with her jaws around my brother was enough to make me sick but I wanted them to know.

"Wolves," I whispered. "A pack of wolves that wanted to rip Louis and I apart."

"That is no less than you deserve." I froze when I heard that eerie voice, when Dahlia emerged from the trees, dark and powerful. Freya immediately fell to the ground.

"Don't kill them," she murmured. "I did this, it is my fault."

"Yes, it is, you foolish girl!" But Dahlia turned to Louis and I anyway. Louis reached for me and I let him bring me close. "I did everything you asked, little witch." She pointed at me. "And how have you repaid me? By doing the one thing I commanded you not to do."

"My sister did nothing wrong," Louis declared, pushing me behind him. Freya kept her fierce eyes on him, full of love. " _I_ went against you and I would do it again if it meant I could save Freya from your cursed grasp."

"Cursed?" Dahlia questioned, moving ever closer. "I will show you cursed, boy. You and your twin sister." Freya sobbed, a strange girlish sound fraught with knowing. In our lessons, Dahlia had revealed her talent for curses, a talent that Louis and I did not share. If we were to be on the receiving end of one, I genuinely feared for us. Freya bore her own curse from Dahlia, agelessness, cursed to live one year in each century and sleeping the rest. She feared that Dahlia had already begun placing the same spell on Louis and I. For whatever reason, Dahlia admired us.

"Adeline had nothing to do with this, I swear it. She didn't know." But Dahlia bent to pick up my tattered bouquet. I shuddered as she grasped the ribbon, crushed a holly berry between her fingers.

"She knew of this," Dahlia murmured as she unpinned the handfasting ribbon. She let it unfurl, scattering branches, leaves, and berries. Pain started in my temples, so agonizing that my vision went white. I screamed and crumpled to my knees. Louis and Freya began to chant, an old spell that always took a pair of witches to accurately cast it. But while Freya may have loved my brother, she did not have the magical bond with him that I did, and their spell was doomed to failure.

The pain ceased and I fell onto my back, leaves tangling in my dark hair.

"Freya," Dahlia tsk-ed. "You knew better." Freya hit the ground beside me, her blonde hair a funeral shroud. I scrambled away, a hand over my mouth. "She is not dead, not really." But Freya was bleeding, her grey skirts stained red. She had miscarried. A noise escaped Louis, one of absolute despair, and rage coursed through my blood.

I did not pause before twisting my hand and breaking the bones in Dahlia's arm. She yelled as Louis only stared.

"Louis!" I called. "Help me!" But Louis was crouching on the forest floor beside Freya, his normally deft fingers struggling to brush the hair away from her fair face.

I clenched my hand into a fist, to bring Dahlia down, but it had little effect. She was laughing and though her right arm was hanging at an unnatural angle, she moved her fingers. Louis gasped, suddenly clawing at his throat.

"No!" I exclaimed. "Don't hurt him, I beg of you!"

"You _beg_?" Dahlia scoffed. Louis bent over coughing, trying to catch his breath. "You once begged me for your sister's life… and now she will pay for your betrayal."

"Please, Dahlia. I did my best to follow your orders, you cannot know how much I tried, but it was a foolish request you asked of us. Surely, someone of your talent and intelligence can see that," I implored. Tears threatened to fall. If she killed Isabel, all of this was for naught.

"It was our deal," she hissed and a chill ran through the air. It made the blood run cold in my veins and Louis's normally tan skin paled.

"No," I whispered, as I knew what it meant. "Isabel!" I sobbed.

"Lord Louis de Rouen, a boy of title and power, I will ensure that you have nothing to offer girls such as Freya ever again." Louis cried out when Dahlia began to cast her spell. I moved to cast a spell of my own but Dahlia raised her good hand and held me in her thrall. I became so weak that I could barely move my arms.

"What have you done?" Louis moaned, wincing.

"I have made you barren." My eyes widened and Louis looked at me in horror. If he was impotent, he could never be the Comte de Rouen. He could not carry on our bloodline. Our father… There was no telling what our father might do.

With a hand extended toward Louis, she turned on me. "And you, Adeline de Rouen, you gave up resolve the moment Freya bound you a bouquet. Since you betrayed me for the gifts of a holly branch, I curse you to prophecy for the rest of your days!" Dahlia's fingers twisted and I hunched over. There was a piercing sound that made me cover my ears and I screamed. Pain reverberated through my body. The image of the wolves flashed before me and this time one nicked my leg. I saw Tristan, handsome but dead, Aurora jumping from a windowsill, Louis's neck bloodied and body broken. And all the while, I screamed.

The agony in my head flared out, running down my arms, my legs. Slowly, I noticed my black hair run white, from fear or from the curse, I did not know. I collapsed from the exhaustion and Dahlia only laughed.

Though my vision was blurring, I was aware of Dahlia kneeling between me and Louis. He weakly linked our fingers as Dahlia whispered in Latin. We could only guess at what this final spell might be and prayed that it would not be worse than what she'd already given us. But we should have known better.

 **All right, the introduction is finished! Thanks for reading. I would be interested in hearing your thoughts about everything, including where you think this might/should go and also about characters/pairings. I see many ways in which this can go so I'm interested in hearing other people's opinions. Thank you!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello! Okay, so yes, I am terrible at updating and I am really sorry about it. But I hope you enjoy this relatively short chapter anyway (well, maybe it isn't short but…). Anyways, thanks for the follows and favorites! I hope you enjoy!**

"He's going to announce your and Tristan's wedding, don't you think?" Louis whispered, his breath hot on my ear. We stood in the great hall of the de Martel's court, waiting with many others to be called before the count and his children.

"I've told you many times, brother," I murmured back, "that Tristan and I will never be married."

"This is an alliance that was made when we were in the cradle. The Count de Martel will not throw that away over what happened to Isabel." But he would. I didn't need my curse of seeing the future to know it. What happened to Isabel was spoken of in many courts, not least of which the court of the de Martels. I was betrothed to their heir and there had long been talk of strange happenings in Rouen. Things that couldn't be explained. Crops that would grow during drought, livestock healthy during famine, girls who died of "childbed fever" months after leaving the childbed with a healthy baby. These people were not fools and even if they had been, there were things they couldn't ignore. Rouen's link to the Northmen, the Viking blood in our veins. Louis, once healthy and virile, now thin and prone to sickness. My once dark hair, black as pitch, gone silver as the moon. Isabel's mysterious death, put about as a case of childbed fever, when she was better after the birth than before it. That our father had sent us here, clearly because he could not bear to be around us. It was all the markings of a curse and a curse upon my family.

"I saw the wolves in my dream," I declared. Louis scoffed.

"That witch made us see things. You can't be sure of what was real and what was illusion."

"Her curse was real." Louis blanched. He hated every mention of what happened in the woods with Dahlia and he particularly hated mention of his impotence, so much so that he'd actually tricked himself into believing that it hadn't truly happened.

"We have no proof of that," he hissed. But there had been proof and he knew it. In the months since Dahlia left us unconscious in the snowy forest, my visions had only grown stronger. The brush of a hand or even a dream at night would bring them on. Sometimes I would awaken, having taken a blade to the floor, leaving a portrait in my wake. Louis had even bought me one of the most expensive commodities, vellum, so that I could draw on something other than the castle walls. He knew that Dahlia's curse on me was true, had seen what it turned me into, and still wanted to deny it. So he denied that we had been called before the Count de Martel for any reason other than the annulment of Tristan and I's betrothal. We'd been at their court for months and it was clear they were deliberating on what to do with us.

"They are scared," I whispered. "If we're not careful, they will try me as a witch." And there would always be the chance that I wouldn't survive it. Witches are many things but they are mortal.

"There's no cause. Isabel died of childbed fever. It's a common enough thing and no one was there to witness it. Aside from that, if they were to try you, they would eventually have to take the claims of Aurora's madness seriously. Tristan has his faults but he would never let it get so far. He's fond of you." The term "fond" crawled over my skin like a worm and it made me quiver unconsciously. Tristan was possessive and our betrothal was something he'd known all his life. He'd grown up understanding I would one day belong to him. It wasn't fondness Tristan felt for me. It was something much worse.

But even Tristan had beheld my crown of silver hair with fear. Even now, I saw him looking down at me from the dais, taking in the silver circlet across my forehead and how it must have shown against my white hair. I was a witch in all but name to him. When I returned his gaze, he gave me a smirk, a smirk that said he'd weighed all I had to offer him and found it wanting.

"My lady." I turned at the voice, the amethyst stone on my circlet helplessly bumping the skin between my eyebrows. It was Lucien, the boy who'd been my personal servant for the months I'd been at the de Martel's court, waiting for their sword to drop on my neck. He offered me a goblet encrusted with rose quartz, a stone they found in remarkable supply here. I hadn't told him to bring me wine but I took it anyway. Tristan only stared from the dais, watching the way my fingers curled around the stem of the glass.

"Thank you," I said. Lucien smiled, as if his greatest joy in life was to bring me pleasure. He was a handsome thing, dark haired and blue eyed and skin unmarked by anything like the pox. But more than that, he was kind to me. That was something I took and held very near to my chest at night, that he wasn't afraid, that he might even be my friend.

Lucien was the only servant to volunteer to work in my service when we arrived. It was untoward for a woman to have a male servant attend her day and night but no one else had wanted me and even the Count de Martel could not blame them. If Isabel was dead by my hand, then sense told them to stay away. Lucien, the count's own personal servant, stepped forward. He said he would split time, serve both I and the count equally. Tristan had balked but no one else dared complain. How much more damage could be done to my reputation? My family was cursed and I was responsible for the death of my sister and her babe. In truth, I was grateful that the boy had saved me the shame. On his first day of service, he told me, "I think your hair is lovely, my lady. It is so like moonlight." It was the only thoughtful comment I'd received. I kept that close to my chest in the night as well.

Louis looked over my shoulder at him. Dahlia's curse had been more powerful than even she might have intended. Not only had it rendered my brother barren but it had weakened him significantly in other aspects. He'd grown thin, his normally tan skin was pale, and he was prone to bouts of coughing that concerned us all. He would stand no match against Lucien without magic but magic, Louis still had.

"Fetch me some wine as well, boy," Louis demanded, but with how weak his voice had become, it sounded like only a suggestion. Lucien flinched anyway because Louis was routinely hard on him.

"Louis," I hissed through my teeth. But my twin did not acknowledge my reprimand.

"Yes, my lord," Lucien responded, his gaze on the ground.

When he walked away, I sighed. "I do not understand what he has done to incur your wrath, brother." I took a sip of the wine.

"Well, what I do not understand, _little sister,_ is how you don't see what lies before you. Lucien used to follow Aurora about as though he were her dog and now he does you the same."

"I believe that he must be taking pity on me."

" _Pity?"_ His tone made my cheeks color. _"_ He wants whatever castoffs you will throw him. With the rumors as they are, you are a sweet target. Secluded, lonely, but still beautiful and rich."

"Louis," I said, "I cannot bear these accusations from you. He is my only friend." My voice was helpless because this was a conversation Louis and I had had many times before. He would take Lucien away, let me bear the shame of having to prepare myself as if I was not the daughter of a count, because he did not like that Lucien met my eyes or once dared to call me by name. It was too "familiar," too "close," too "friendly."

"Yes and people are beginning to talk."

"Let them," I declared. "There is no more harm that can be done to our family name and there is certainly no more harm to be done to my reputation."

"If they cannot prove that what happened to Isabel and her child is your fault, and they cannot, then life will continue as it was meant."

"And it was meant for me to marry Tristan and please him all my days?" Louis grimaced, his normally handsome face veering toward frightening.

"Adeline, I just implore you to understand how this looks. It is inappropriate."

"What happened between you and Freya was inappropriate." Louis's skin paled and I wondered if he might be sick. But I had mentioned Freya and he had, frankly, never moved past leaving her with Dahlia. "He is my servant. Nothing more."

"The boy looks at you like you are the witch they claim and he is under your thrall."

"I _am_ the witch they claim and he is the only one who does not believe it." Or he believed it and didn't care. I was happy with either.

There was another scoff. "Then he is a naïve fool. There are some things you cannot hide and your nature is one of them."

"Louis, I ask that you do not ruin this for me. You know our father and you know how my life has gone. I have never had anyone but you. You and Isabel and now she is dead because I was fool enough to deal with that woman in the woods and we broke her only rule." I must have looked helpless because Louis's expression softened.

"He will never be your friend, Adeline. He is beneath you and you will never be on equal footing." I bit my bottom lip to keep from lashing out or worse, crying. Louis pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "I say this not to hurt you, little sister, but because this could cost you the marriage to Tristan."

"Is that so great a loss?" I asked because I knew it was coming.

Louis pondered, his green eyes narrowed, and finally, he said, "I suppose not, if he is what they say."

"I know that he is what they say. I've seen it. Lucien, I am sure, bears many scars."

"That is one thing I will say that Lucien has right; I would not have you marry Tristan if there were another way." Marriage would separate us and as twins, Louis and I had always found that our power was strongest together. We feared eventually being parted, even if it was expected of us.

Lucien arrived back in front of us, a plate in his hand holding Louis' goblet. It was less grand than mine. I smiled at him and he brightened. I could not help liking him.

"Lord Louis and Lady Adeline de Rouen," the count called. He was done with whatever poor soul came before us. I felt the metal of the goblet bend beneath my grip before setting it atop the plate in Lucien's hand. It rattled, as if his hands might be shaking. He feared Tristan and he had made it plain that he thought marrying him would be the death of me.

Louis took my arm and guided me forward, as though I was immovable. In truth, he most likely needed the physical support to walk all the way down the hall. I could feel how brittle his grip was and the magic between us made me afraid that Louis would die. But in my dream, his throat had been torn out. This sickness would not kill him. The pack would.

Though it should matter little what people say, particularly when you are gifted such as I, I found myself pulling in to Louis's side. There were whispers along the hall as we passed others waiting for their turn before the count and I heard them all. Most assumed that Louis had little to do with whatever happened, since he only bore some signs of sickness, but I had a physical blight that was impossible to hide. Besides, I was a woman and everyone knew witches were women.

Before we reached the foot of the dais, I discretely pulled the neckline of my dress lower. It was no secret that the Count de Martel favored an ample bosom. I bent low to give him a good look and stood beside Louis. Louis bowed and I held my breath as he straightened. I wasn't sure if I expected him to collapse.

The count sat above us on a chair akin to a throne, with Aurora and Tristan standing to the side. I would be lying if I didn't call them attractive, standing there in their complementary outfits of blue and gold. The count's children, Tristan and Aurora, had been our competition since birth. Where people whispered under their breath that I had murdered my sister and her child and that Louis and I were pagan witches sent to doom the court, Aurora and Tristan were hailed as perfection. I knew that Louis and I were considered beautiful, if in a dark way, but it was nothing compared to what was said about Aurora and Tristan. I had the sense to know the competition was over and that they had won.

"My lord," the count began, nodding at Louis, "my lady." He gave me a nod as well. "I am sure you know why you have been called here. We are going to deal with the matter of the Lady Adeline's betrothal to my son, Tristan." Tristan, as golden and handsome as his tunic, smiled. It was not a smile of happiness and I hated every inch of it. "This was an alliance forged between our families, decided long ago." At that, it was Louis's time to smile. I could tell what was going through his mind, that there was no possible way they would insult us by breaking that alliance. Louis was as naïve as Lucien. "But I would like to change the terms of that agreement."

Beside me, Louis fumbled for my hand. I let him take it.

"Since the Lady Isabel's tragic and sudden death, there have been many changes in Rouen as I understand it. Your father, the Comte de Rouen, has sickened as well and to be frank, Lord Louis, your composition does not inspire confidence." My brother had circles beneath his green eyes, his skin was sallow, he could barely keep upright. They were correct to fear the death of anyone who could directly inherit the title.

"I am well, your grace," Louis claimed but all who heard his voice would not dare believe it.

"I do not doubt that you are on your way back to perfect health." Tristan and Aurora shared a laugh. She giggled and hid her mouth with her small hand, bedecked with jeweled rings. "But it has caused us to look at the betrothal critically and I feel that it would be beneficial for the Lady Adeline to marry another suitor."

Even as I had expected it, my stomach still dropped. Louis's grip on my hand tightened and the candles along the wall flared. Tristan seemed torn. A new toy he'd been promised for many years was simply taken from his grasp but it was a damaged toy anyway. Aurora grinned and it made me believe the rumors that she was mad. Snickers went through the crowd in the hall and I knew my cheeks reddened with disgrace. Lucien, standing far to the side with other servants eager to wait upon the de Martels, was the only one genuinely happy and not for a malign reason.

"My sister has no other suitor, your grace," Louis said, his rage barely concealed. The fire of the candles seemed to reach higher. "You know that because she and the Lord Tristan have been betrothed since birth."

"Ah, but I have found her another match. Though none equals my son, the Comte de Guise has graciously offered one of his own. He has four sons and a daughter. Perhaps, a match for you as well, Lord Louis." Four sons and a daughter. Five wolves in a pack. A wedding of blood and death. The she-wolf with her jaws around my brother. The others coming for me. My prophecy was coming true and it was coming soon.

* * *

I dropped the amethyst and silver circlet on the chest before me and listened to the way it clattered. I was bringing a comb through my white hair when Lucien entered my chambers. I was grateful for the wine he brought and the way it would inevitably make my head spin.

"Is there anything else you need, my lady?" he asked when I picked the comb back up.

"No, thank you," I replied and combed a section of hair. I saw Lucien watch my hand as it moved farther down and Louis's words about him being under my thrall ran through my mind.

"My lady, may I speak frankly?" Those words had as much an air of prophecy as any vision of mine.

"Please. I do wish you would."

"I believe that what the de Martels did today was a callous form of humiliation." Though the room was drafty and my dress was thin, I felt warm.

"Indeed, it was, and I think they intended that. But they did do me the courtesy of arranging another betrothal, even if it is to some man who I have never met." In truth, I was surprised that anyone with a title or the sense to understand what was being said, would ever agree to marry one of their children to me. It was an insult in another form and I'd yet to figure it out. I was more concerned that the Count de Guise's family was the wolf pack from my dream.

Lucien's gaze flickered between me and the floor. "I just believe that if the Lord Tristan de Martel were any sort of decent-"

I shook my head to cut him off. "I shall also be frank and say that being free of the betrothal to Tristan is like getting better after a very long sickness." The corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "You and I both know that he is not decent."

"Yes," he replied slowly, "and just because you and he are no longer to be married, does not mean that his view of you has changed." I cut my eyes at him, even while knowing that he was right. Lucien was earnest and on more than one occasion, I had asked his thoughts on Tristan and Aurora. He had cause to know what sort of monster Tristan was because I could tell by the look on his face when he spoke of her, that he had once loved Aurora. For Tristan, there could be no one else for Aurora but him. "I just urge you to proceed with caution where he is concerned."

"May I ask you something, Lucien?" He lifted his eyes to mine and though I hated it, I knew Louis must be right.

"Anything, my lady," he responded with a sheepish smile.

"Why are you concerned about what could happen between Tristan and I? Why are you concerned about me at all? Surely, you've heard what they say about me."

"Yes, I have heard the rumors, my lady, but I do not believe them."

"You don't?" My heart felt unfairly full. Since those months in the woods, I'd had such little generosity or kindness and it was so nice for someone to want to be on my side. Louis had been terrible company since Dahlia, as if she sucked away much of his personality along with his ability to sire children.

"Well, more accurately, my lady, I'm afraid I don't know what to believe." He was nervous now because if I was the witch I was accused of being, I could have whatever I wanted of him here and now. "I only know that they call you evil and I know you are not that. Lord Tristan, however, is."

"Be careful who you say that to," I replied and I had a feeling he was going to say it to someone soon. My feelings were never wrong, not since the curse Dahlia placed on me.

Lucien was leaving the next day to meet the Comte de Guise and his children on the road to escort them here. My wedding to one of the sons would happen in a matter of weeks and I was afraid I saw no way of escaping it. None of my other visions had ever proved false so I had no reason to believe the initial dream of the bloodbath wedding and the pack of wolves would not come true. I thought of Aurora jumping from the windowsill, Tristan dead, Louis with his throat torn out. It was all coming and it would come with the arrival of the wolves.

That night I dreamed a dream of kings and stags and when I awoke, I'd taken the left over wine and painted an eerie portrait over the tapestry on the wall. It was a wolf wearing a bloody crown, his fur matted with it. Shaking, I waved my hand and the tapestry fell to my feet. I burned it before anyone could ask where it had gone.

 **Thanks for reading! Again I'm open to suggestions for the marriage match so let me know what you're thinking there. Thanks again!**


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